A Tale of Three Joes
by bugsymutt
Summary: Ace, Cover Girl, and Flint contend with personal struggles on Christmas day. Will three mysterious visitors help the Joes understand what's really important in their lives? Just a feel-good little story inspired by the timeless holiday classic, "A Christmas Carol."
1. Christmas Past

**A/N:** I wrote this way back in December 1999 and posted it to the old GI Joe cartoon mailing list and another Joe fanfic website at that time. Somehow it survived all these years on my computer and now that I've found this great website, I thought I'd share it here. I realize there have been countless adaptations of _A Christmas Carol_ and while I hope you enjoy this little story, I encourage you to read the original by Charles Dickens if you never have. The typical disclaimer applies: I'm not affiliated with the official GI Joe franchise or anyone related to Charles Dickens. I don't own the characters, nor am I making any money from this fic. Just doing this for fun.

* * *

**Part I - Ace - Christmas Past**  
**GI Joe Headquarters**  
**December 25**

"What da ya say, Ripcord... think you can beat me at Seven Card Stud?" Ace asked as he approached his teammate and slapped him on the shoulder.

"You know I can beat you," Ripcord replied with a confident smile. "But I'll have to beat you another day. Cutter and I have to take these Christmas packages down to the V.A. center. Wanna help?" Ripcord gestured to the truckload of wrapped gifts the Joes collected for the veterans. Simple gifts, like handkerchiefs, slippers, hard candy, and books seemed to delight the elderly residents.

Ace laughed. "You kidding? Hanging out with a bunch of grumpy old men is not my idea of a fun way to spend Christmas."

"Suit yourself," Ripcord said as he climbed into the passenger side of the truck. Cutter looked at Ace with a frown before pulling away.

Ace glanced around the motor pool and saw Clutch engrossed in the engine of an older blue Buick sedan. "How about you, Clutch? You up for a game? I'll even go easy on you." Ace watched as Clutch continued to work on the engine.

Without looking up, Clutch wiped a trickle of sweat from his brow, leaving a grease smear on his face. "Can't, Ace. I wanna get this transmission fixed before Doc gets back from leave tomorrow. He'll be so surprised to see it done. The look on his face'll be priceless... It was his old man's car and he's been tryin' to keep it running as long as possible. Sentimental, ya know? I know he was callin' around before he left to haggle a price from some garage in town ..."

Ace walked away before hearing the rest of the story. He took a deck of cards out of his coat pocket and shuffled them aimlessly as he stared ahead, looking at nothing in particular. "What a bunch of losers," he muttered to himself. "It's Christmas and no one wants to do anything fun."

"Perhaps it is you who needs a reminder about Christmas and fun."

Ace almost dropped the cards, startled at the voice right behind his ear. He spun around quickly, and the color drained from his face.

"Who are you?" he asked with a dry mouth.

The figure stared into Ace's eyes, unblinking, and unmoving. "I am the Ghost of Christmas Past," it said simply. "We are going to take a journey to remind you of the important things in your life." With that, and before Ace could respond, the landscape seemed to spin, a blur of bright lights and fuzzy images before it settled down. The figure and Ace were no longer at Joe Headquarters. Instead, they were at Ace's boyhood home in Rhode Island.

"Hey, how did you do that?" Ace asked, incredulously. "This is where I grew up. That's my parents!" he exclaimed, pointing to a young man and woman sitting on a floral-print sofa. "Hi Mom, Dad!"

The spirit gently placed its hand on Ace's shoulder and said, "They cannot hear or see us. We are simply observing the past." Somehow, Ace understood and slowly nodded his head.

The room was decorated for Christmas, with a Christmas tree in the background, and piles of torn wrapping paper and newly-opened presents scattered about the floor. The man had a camera pointing at a raven-haired young boy standing next to an easy chair. "Hey, is that me?" Ace asked of the spirit.

"Yes, this is you as a toddler. The only child of Russ and Paula Armbruster, you were showered with attention. Not only did you have unconditional love from your parents, but there was someone else who loved you more than anything in the world."

Ace looked at an older man sitting in the chair near the little boy. "Gramps! Wow, he looks so young there." The older man gave the boy a small wrapped gift. The boy ripped open the paper, revealing a toy airplane. The boy giggled and threw his hands around his grandfather, embracing him in a big hug. The grandfather's eyes welled up with tears at the boy's happiness.

Ace smiled. "I remember that toy airplane. Gramps had been a pilot in World War II. I used to love talking to him about dogfights and planes."

The spirit nodded. "There is more," it said as the room spun and went through the same transformation again. This time, they were in what appeared to be a park. The trees were bare and piles of old, dirty snow lined the sidewalk. The same little boy and grandfather, both several years older and bundled up in winter coats, were playing with a remote-controlled airplane. Ace watched thoughtfully as the two struggled to make it fly, and when they succeeded, they smiled and marveled at the toy plane.

"Me and Gramps struggled for hours with that plane. It always seemed to nosedive into the ground, but eventually we got it to work. I would have given up on it long before if he hadn't have been so encouraging."

Once again, the spirit took Ace to another scene from his life. This time, he was a young teen, and he was with his grandfather watching planes take off and land at the local airport. Ace smiled. "We watched those planes all afternoon. I know it was then that I made up my mind to become a pilot."

"Yes, your grandfather has always been very proud of you. Even if you had decided to pursue other hobbies or interests, he would have supported what you wanted."

Ace nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I really hit the grandfather jackpot. But why are you showing me all this?"

The spirit only waved its arms and the vision disappeared, changing again. Ace nodded as he easily recognized the man in the vision, a smiling Air Force Lieutenant in dress blues hugging his parents. He listened to the conversation. "I'll call you when I get back to base. Sorry I couldn't visit longer, but the Air Force is pretty stingy with holiday leave time for new recruits. Even us officers," he said with a cocky smile.

His mother looked at her son seriously. "Brad, you really should go visit your grandfather. He hasn't seen you since last year. I know he'd love to talk with you while you're home. He wanted to be here to see you but his nurse thought it would be too difficult for him to travel so soon after his operation."

Lieutenant Armbruster shook his head, picked up his suitcase, and opened the door. "I can't, Mom. I just don't have time. I want to see Karen one last time before I go back, and I promised the guys a couple of games too. I'll see Gramps next time I come home."

Ace looked solemnly at his memory. "Poor Gramps. He was so much a part of my life when I was younger, but then I never made time for him when I grew up. Probably when he needed someone to talk to. I guess it got lonely for him."

The spirit nodded. "Do you know where your grandfather is today?"

"Yeah, I guess he's still in that nursing home. He's had some health problems the past couple of years, a hip replacement and other stuff. He doesn't get around much."

"This is the time of year to remember those we love... and those who love us. There will always be another day to play poker," the spirit declared, then vanished.

Ace looked startled, then rubbed his eyes. "I must have imagined all this. Either that or I partied harder last night than I remember." He sighed, and slowly walked to his quarters, ignoring the few Joes he passed along the way. Once inside the small room, he sat on his bed and picked up the phone. He dialed quickly, and cleared his throat. After a few rings, his call was answered. "Hello, Gramps?" Ace stretched out on his bed, smiling as he talked. He pulled off his coat, tossing it on the chair next to him. He didn't even notice when the deck of cards fell out of his pocket, scattering the cards all over the floor.


	2. Christmas Present

**Part II - Cover Girl - Christmas Present  
GI Joe Headquarters  
December 25**

Cover Girl slammed the phone down angrily. "Customer Service my ass!"

Shipwreck, who happened to be walking by the rec room, jumped when he heard Cover Girl's angry exchange with the phone. He peeked into the room and saw her pacing back and forth, catalog in hand.

Shipwreck cleared his throat. "Um, hey, Cover Girl. Everything okay?"

She spun around at his words. "No, everything is NOT okay. All the presents I ordered for my family didn't show up. I called them this morning to see how they liked their gifts, and found out they never received them! So I called the company but they're OFF today. Can you believe this?" The normally easygoing tank jockey was definitely not having a good day. Her eyes blazed at Shipwreck for intruding on her misery.

Shipwreck plopped down in the rec room's recliner. "So what? The post office screwed up the shipping. It's the thought that counts." Shipwreck tried to lighten up the situation. He patted his lap. "Why don't you sit down right here. I'm sure you'll forget all about that after spending some time with yours truly." He winked at his teammate.

One could practically see the steam escape from Cover Girl's ears. "You've got to be kidding! Geez, Shipwreck, when are you going to lay off the pickup lines? Can't you get it through that thick head of yours that I am never going to hook up with you? Especially on Christmas! Now get out of here before I throw you out myself!" She pointed to the door, and the expression on her face made Shipwreck gulp.

He clumsily got up from the recliner, tripping over the extended footrest. "All right, all right. Just tryin' to cheer you up." He walked towards the door and into the hall, but decided to stick his head back into the room one last time. "If you change your mind..."

"GET OUT!"

Shipwreck ducked as the forcefully thrown catalog barely missed his head and crashed against the door frame. After one last, but very brief sympathetic look at Cover Girl, he wisely decided to give her some time alone.

Cover Girl sank onto the floor, resting her back against the wall, drawing her knees up to her chest. "Some Christmas. Not only am I stuck here away from my family, but all my gifts are missing too." She sighed and rested her head on her knees.

A voice startled her, and she looked up, wide-eyed.

"Christmas is not about presents." The figure who spoke was glowing white, and offered a hand to help Cover Girl up from her position.

She barely breathed. "Are you an angel?" she managed to whisper.

The spirit laughed gently. "No, I am the Ghost of Christmas Present. I am going to help you today. Come with me," the spirit said, guiding the comely but confused Joe across the room. Before Cover Girl could realize it, they were no longer in the rec room, but instead, they were in the main kitchen. Roadblock was wearing his white chef's hat and a matching white apron, peering into the oven to check on the roasting turkeys.

"Ah, lookin' mighty fine, can't wait 'til we can dine," he said before closing the oven door. Roadblock then began mixing ingredients for what appeared to be a sweet dessert. "Now where did I put that box of cocoa?" He mused to himself.

Cover Girl pointed to the counter behind him. "It's behind you, Roadblock," she offered.

The spirit shook its head. "He cannot see or hear you. We are merely observers."

They observed Shipwreck popping into the kitchen. "Hey, Roadblock, what's cookin'?" He took an exaggerated sniff. "Smells great! Want some help?" He picked up a wooden spoon, hoping to assist the chef.

Roadblock shook his head. "Sorry, Shipwreck ol' pal. I think I better just do this myself. As soon as I find that cocoa I'll whip up the best chocolate hazelnut torte you'll ever gonna taste."

Shipwreck spied the open box of cocoa on the counter. He picked it up. "Here it is, Roadblock." The sailor set it on the counter in front of the chef, but did so a little too roughly, forcing a big puff of dark cocoa out of the container, coating the counter with a film of the dusty powder. "Oops," he said with a nervous giggle.

Roadblock gave him an annoyed look. "Shipwreck, a gourmet chef you ain't. Now git out of here before you screw everything up! Or before I break you up." The brawny Joe took a step toward the exiting Shipwreck, who quickly ran out of the kitchen.

Cover Girl observed this with a small frown. "Roadblock could have used Shipwreck's help for something... even for washing the dishes. He didn't have to be so abrupt with him."

The spirit nodded. "Walk this way, please." The spirit and Cover Girl walked away from the kitchen, and the room once again changed. They were now in the base gym. Cover Girl found herself observing Scarlett, who was attired in exercise clothes and sitting on the stationary bike. Shipwreck was standing right in front of Scarlett with his hands resting on the handlebars.

"Look, Shipwreck," Scarlett was saying with an irritated tone in her voice. "I wanted to get in a good workout today. Why don't you go do something somewhere else?"

"Aw, come on Scarlett... just a walk," Shipwreck requested with a wry smile, and then gave a quick glance around the room to make sure they were alone. "It's not like I'm asking for you to join me for a fun horizontal workout."

Scarlett's hand slapped Shipwreck's face even faster than he had expected. "Ow..." he muttered as he tenderly rubbed his stinging cheek. "I was just kidding, ya know. I just wanted to hang out and talk." He slowly left the gym, his hand still gently caressing the red mark on his cheek, his feet shuffling along the floor.

"Poor Shipwreck," Cover Girl said sadly. "Nobody knows it, but he does try. Underneath that rogue exterior there really is a nice guy. I guess I didn't help when I was mean to him earlier today. I should go say something to him."

"No, not yet. We have one more stop to make," the Ghost of Christmas Present said, leading Cover Girl on yet another journey.

This time their stop was in the GI Joe control room, where they saw Dial Tone sitting back in his chair, feet propped up on the console, reading a gaming magazine while monitoring the display board and video screens. The control room door slid open and Shipwreck entered.

"Hey, Dial Tone. Working hard, are ya?" Shipwreck walked over to Dial Tone and peered at the magazine.

Dial Tone closed the magazine with a sigh. "Yes, as a matter of fact I am. I can't stare at the monitors constantly, but I AM working."

Shipwreck sat down in the chair next to the communications expert. "Yeah right. I'll keep you company this lovely Christmas day." He copied Dial Tone's position and propped his feet up on the console. However, in doing so he inadvertently pushed a button with the heel of his boot which sounded the base's panic alarm. Both Dial Tone and Shipwreck jumped to their feet and Dial Tone frantically tried to disable the piercing alarm.

"Good going, Shipwreck! This will make everyone merry," Dial Tone fumbled with the controls, finally able to silence the shrieking alarm. Now suddenly quiet, he spoke into the intercom microphone. "Uh...Attention all Joes... false alarm... repeat... false alarm. Uh...we, uh, apologize for the inconvenience." He clicked off the microphone and gave Shipwreck a dirty look.

Shipwreck knew what was coming. "Yeah, yeah... I'm leaving," he said as he slowly left the control room, head down. "Just tryin' to be social..." he mumbled sadly.

"Enough... please let me go be with Shipwreck," Cover Girl begged of the spirit.

The spirit nodded. "Of course. And Merry Christmas, Courtney."

Cover Girl gave a quick flash of her beautiful smile. "Merry Christmas to you, too." She ran out of the control room, looking for Shipwreck in the usual places: the dining hall, his quarters, the rec room... until she decided to try outside. Even though it was a cold December day, she didn't bother stopping to put on a coat. "Shipwreck!" she yelled, looking all around for the dejected sailor. She finally spotted him, sitting alone on top of a picnic table, his arms resting on his knees, head down. Cover Girl smiled and waved, "Hey Shipwreck!" She ran over to him.

Shipwreck glanced up when she reached him. "Oh, hi Cover Girl. Sorry about earlier today."

"You silly sailor. I'm the one who needs to be apologizing to you," she said as she hopped up on the table next to him. She looked at him, her eyes serious but sparkling. "I was a real bitch in there. I was so upset over something so stupid that I had no control over, and I took it out on you. I'm sorry."

Shipwreck looked up. This was the first time anyone had said anything nice to him all day. Normally his teammates thought that since he enjoyed joking around, and had a tendency to prefer testing the comfort level of the base sofas over working extra hard to stay in shape, that he was all rough inside too. But Cover Girl knew better.

"Look, Shipwreck. I was just really upset for some stupid reason about the presents. But I was really wrong about something. My family isn't just back home in Illinois. They're right here, too. The Joes are probably closer to me than my real family is. Especially you."

Shipwreck almost blushed. "Aww... You know what?"

"What?" Cover Girl smiled.

"I'm glad we're friends, Cover Girl. Buddies, pals.. whatever. I know you don't think of me as more than that, but we do have some pretty good times together."

Cover Girl laughed. "Yeah, we certainly do." She paused, remembering all the great memories the two of them had shared.

Shipwreck suddenly noticed that Cover Girl was only wearing her regular uniform, and had not stopped to put on a coat. "Hey, you must be freezing. Here," he said as he removed his coat and put it around her shoulders.

"Thanks," she said, snuggling up in the wool overcoat. "Aren't you going to be cold though?"

"Nope," Shipwreck chuckled. "I'm actually feeling very warm and fuzzy, so the cold air should do me some good."

The two Joes laughed together. Then Cover Girl leaned over and hugged Shipwreck tightly. "I think you're one of my best friends, Shipwreck. Merry Christmas."

He hugged her tightly back, then let go. "Merry Christmas," he replied. They sat on the picnic table for a few more minutes, then found a football and tossed it around for a while. They laughed. They talked. They joked. They realized how lucky they were to have such a great friendship, and in spite of the problems of the day for both, it really was a merry Christmas.

* * *

**A/N:** No Cover Girl/Shipwreck romance is implied in this chapter, just a friendship. I figure the female Joes are bound to have strong friendships with some of the guys. Shipwreck and Cover Girl had a lot of interaction in the cartoon so I think it makes sense.


	3. Christmas Future

**Part III - Flint - Christmas Future**  
**The Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia **  
**December 25**

"What's up with you, Flint?" Lady Jaye turned to face her boyfriend, who was concentrating on driving and staring straight ahead.

"Nothing," was his curt reply.

She tried again. "You've barely talked since we left base almost two hours ago. Why don't you talk to me? Is it something I said?"

Flint merely shifted the gears. "No."

"Would you rather not be doing this?" Lady Jaye thought that since they both had Christmas and the following day off duty, they could spend some quality time off-base at a cozy little cottage she rented. She thought it was a beautiful, charming place when she went to check it out earlier in the month. It was nestled in the woods in the Blue Ridge mountains, not too far of a drive from HQ, yet far enough to feel secluded from the rest of the world. The cottage belonged to a business associate of her family, a place they would escape to when matters brought them to the Washington area. It wasn't an extravagant home, but more of a modest, yet modern log cabin, suitable for a couple or a small family. Lady Jaye immediately fell in love with the stone fireplace in the living room, the whirlpool tub in the master bath, and the beautiful mountain views from every room. She thought that the two days, just Flint and herself, would be an incredibly romantic, intimate escape. But so far, the mini-vacation was leaving a lot to be desired.

Flint slowed the car as they turned off the main road onto the smaller lane, which led up the mountain and to the cabin. "Everything's fine. I told you this is a great idea. You know I've looked forward to it."

"Then why won't you talk to me?"

"I am talking!" Flint said a bit too loudly.

Lady Jaye let out an exasperated sigh and rested her elbow on the door, cradling her head in her hand. She knew Flint was generally a very private person, but sometimes she wished he would just tell her what was bothering him; then she might not feel so much like a stranger. As close as she was to him, and she was closer to him than anyone, she still felt like he didn't completely trust her with his feelings, his secrets, or his thoughts.

They drove in silence for another five minutes, until Lady Jaye pointed to a driveway on the right. "There it is, at the green mailbox." Flint steered the car up the rather steep driveway, which led past a densely wooded area to the log house up the hill. Pulling to a stop at the end of the paved area next to the house, he turned off the ignition and set the parking brake, a bit too aggressively. Lady Jaye pretended not to notice. The two climbed out of his red Porsche and met at the trunk. Their two small suitcases, and two smaller bags of food, filled the compact compartment. Each grabbed a suitcase, and Flint, being chivalrous if not chatty, also took the bags of food. Lady Jaye led the way to the front door, with Flint following closely behind. Once inside, they looked around at the place. It was rustic yet beautiful. The walls and ceiling were solid wood, punctuated with large windows to let in plenty of natural light. They were standing in the living area, a room which had 20 foot vaulted ceilings and a large stone fireplace in front of a cozy sofa and loveseat set. The adjoining kitchen was more than adequately equipped for a "vacation" home, with new appliances, granite counters, and large center island.

"Do you like it?" Lady Jaye asked, hoping to catch Flint in a better mood now.

"Yeah, it's great," he said absently, wandering down the hall into the master bedroom. Lady Jaye took that as a good sign, and followed her lover. Flint placed his suitcase on the floor next to the king size bed and peered into the luxurious master bath.

"It has a really nice whirlpool bath..." Lady Jaye suggested with a provocative glint in her eyes.

Flint turned to look at her, but he didn't appear to be in the mood for a whirlpool. "We didn't get milk, did we?"

The seductive look on Lady Jaye's face gave way to one of disbelief, and finally to anger.

"Here we are, alone in a romantic cabin, on Christmas Day, and all you can think about is milk? Milk?! If milk is so important to you, then go to the damn convenience store in town and get some."

"Fine, I will!" Flint said, heading towards the front door. "Anyway, you'd probably prefer to be here with someone else."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Lady Jaye stared at Flint with her hands on her hips.

"Nothing," he muttered as he pulled the door shut behind him.

Flint slid into his car, slammed the door, and revved the engine. As he drove down the driveway and onto the main road, his mind was whirling with thoughts. _She'd probably prefer to be with someone else_, he thought. _Someone younger, more exciting... like that show-off Ace. Captain Ace, the hotshot pilot_. Flint's eyes narrowed at the images coming into his mind. He had caught them chatting outside the junk room earlier in the morning. The two were laughing and carrying on. _The cocky bastard, thinking he can hit on her_, he thought. He briefly imagined Lady Jaye and Ace in bed together, and he struck his hand against the dashboard in anger. He had seen the way all the male Joes admired Lady Jaye. Not only was she beautiful, with a figure that could stop traffic, but once they got past her physical appearance guys couldn't help but be charmed by her friendly personality, great sense of humor, and intellect. She was everything that he wanted in a woman, yet his jealousy got the better of him whenever she innocently looked at another guy, or whenever they looked at her. While Flint knew he made her happy, and she often told him that she loved him, he couldn't help but wonder if she would always want to be with him. What if she met someone better?

The surrounding landscape was a blur as Flint sped by, not even glancing at the scenery. He wondered what he would do if Lady Jaye left him for someone else. How could he stand being without her? He loved her so much…. never he could have believed that it would feel like this. "I don't want to lose her," he said aloud. "She means everything to me."

"Trust your feelings, Flint," came a voice next to him. Flint immediately slammed on the brakes and turned to face the 'person' that was sitting in the passenger seat of his car.

"What the... ? Who are you?" Flint's instincts put him on guard for the worst, but somehow he knew that the mysterious figure meant no harm.

"I am the Ghost of Christmas Future," said the spirit.

Flint half smiled. "As in the Dickens classic?" He prudently declined to mention that while he recognized merit in the tale, he considered said author's _Great Expectations_ to be a superior work of Victorian-era literature.

"Yes, if that helps you relate. I'm here to help you trust your feelings, and those of that special person in your life."

"I don't need help 'trusting my feelings,' as you put it. Our relationship is progressing exceptionally well..."

The spirit looked into Flint's dark eyes, an act that Flint found somewhat disturbing, as if the spirit could see what he was thinking.

"Tell me, Flint. What makes you so jealous?"

"I am not jealous. It just really irritates me to see all those men drooling over my girlfriend, and she doesn't help the situation by being so flirtatious all the time."

"Is she flirtatious or merely friendly?" The spirit asked, wisely.

"She is a naturally friendly person, but it's not as if she's an ugly friendly person, she's so gorgeous," Flint tried to explain, for once having difficulty finding the right words. "Men perceive her to be flirtatious, which really pisses me off. They know she's taken. But arrogant guys like Ace think they can get anything they want."

"Do you believe she loves you?"

Flint paused a few seconds too long. "Yes, of course she does..."

"You don't sound certain, Flint. You need to trust your feelings. You need to trust hers, as well." The spirit waved its arm, and suddenly, Flint was no longer sitting in the driver's seat of his Porsche, but he and the spirit were standing at the front in an old, large, ornate church. The wooden pews were filled with smiling people wearing suits and dresses, some of whom Flint recognized as Joes. Bright red poinsettias, glowing white candles, and evergreen swags decorated the front of the church and the aisles, and a white satin aisle runner stretched to the closed rear doors. From a front corner, a string quartet played a Vivaldi concerto as the guests talked quietly and found their seats.

Flint looked around wide-eyed. He whispered to the spirit, "Hey, where are we?"

The spirit spoke in its normal tone of voice. "This is a church."

"I know it's a church. Why are we here?" Flint looked down at himself, embarrassed to be in the clothes he had been wearing all day. He felt out of place in a sweater, jeans, and hiking boots, and the spirit noticed his concern.

"They cannot see or hear us. This is the future."

Flint stared at the two rear doors as they swung open. The string quartet ended their song and then from the balcony, an organist began to play Bach's "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring." The entire congregation stood up and turned expectantly towards the rear of the church.

Within moments, Lady Jaye appeared at the back entrance, one hand on her father's arm and her other clutching a bouquet of red roses sprinkled with baby's breath.

"Alison!" Flint's breath was taken away for a moment, but he steadied himself and he began to breathe again, then broke into a loving smile. "So incredibly beautiful," he whispered.

Lady Jaye was stunning. She wore a lovely, white halter-style couture gown, made of a sumptuous silk. The gown had no lace or ruffles; it was simple yet exquisitely elegant with just a bit of classy beading on the form-fitting bodice. A delicate headpiece secured a length of tulle that cascaded down her back. The gown's long train flowed behind her as she and her father, who looked debonair in a black tuxedo, walked slowly towards the front of the church. She beamed as she proceeded down the aisle, eyes darting briefly to look at the throngs of friends and family surrounding her, yet her gaze kept returning to the front of the church, and each time she looked in that direction, one could truly see the joy and happiness she felt.

Flint tried to see at whom she was looking, but his view was obstructed. "Why can't I see who the groom is? Is it me?"

By this time, Lady Jaye had nearly reached the front of the church. The spirit put a hand on Flint's shoulder. "Trust your heart, Flint. We have another stop to make now." The spirit waved its arm and they were transported to another location.

"Wait! Why did you do that?" Flint asked, agitated. "I needed to see who she was marrying!"

"And I said to trust your heart. Remember, you must learn to trust your feelings, and those of Alison, as well."

Flint, though still displeased with being so untimely whisked away from the wedding, finally looked at his current surroundings. They were in a house, obviously a living room, with comfortable furniture and a large decorated Christmas tree in the corner, surrounded by dozens of wrapped gifts neatly arranged on the floor. A cozy, crackling fire was burning in the room's fireplace and cheerful Christmas music played lightly in the background. Suddenly, Flint heard children's voices in another room, gradually getting louder. Then an adult female voice rose above the children.

"Yes, it's almost time to open your presents. Everyone into the family room." Flint knew that voice anywhere. It was Lady Jaye, though her voice sounded slightly different. The children and Lady Jaye entered the room, and Flint realized why she sounded different: she was old. She must have been at least 75 years old, with greying hair, still worn short in a stylish older woman's cut. Her face had a few wrinkles around her eyes and mouth, but he knew her in an instant, and he thought she was still beautiful.

Flint couldn't take his eyes off her, but he finally forced himself to look at the six children who surrounded Lady Jaye. They ranged in age from toddlers to young teens. The group eagerly sat on the floor in front of the Christmas tree, and Lady Jaye relaxed comfortably on the sofa.

"Can we start now, Grandma?" asked a little boy with dark hair and big brown eyes, gazing at the piles of presents.

Lady Jaye shook her head. "Not yet, Connor. We need to wait until your parents and Grandpa get back. They should be here any minute."

As if on cue, the assembled group heard a dog bark and then the home's front door opened in the hallway. "They're here!" Connor shouted, and he and two of his cousins jumped up and ran into the hall. Flint saw Connor look towards the front door, yet he couldn't make out who the little boy saw. "Grandpa! Merry Christmas!" Connor stretched out his little arms and ran to his grandfather.

Flint waited anxiously for the adults and Connor to rejoin the group in the family room. He needed to see who the grandfather was. It just HAD to be him.

But the spirit had other ideas. "We must go now, Flint. Trust your heart."

"No, I want to see..."

Then the spirit waved its arm and suddenly Flint was sitting alone, in his car. A cold carton of milk, a bottle of Dom Perignon, and a crystal vase holding a dozen red roses were on the seat next to him. He shook his head, trying to comprehend what really happened. "Unbelievable..." he whispered. But he smiled and drove quickly towards the vacation home, unable to wait any longer to get back to Lady Jaye. She was his future; he was certain of that now. He vowed that he would trust his heart and that this Christmas day would be a meaningful, blissful holiday with the woman he loved. And he looked forward to spending every Christmas, every holiday, every day, with her for the rest of his life.

* * *

**A/N:** I realize the comics and a lot of fanfics place Joe Headquarters (aka The Pit) in Utah or another western desert locale. My story is set in the 80's cartoon universe, and while a specific HQ location was never revealed in the series, a couple episodes hinted that it could be in the eastern US. Therefore, I liked to think it is in the Northern Virginia area, perhaps adjacent to an existing military base like Quantico or Fort Belvoir, which would give easy access to meetings at the Pentagon, in addition to an established infrastructure and proximity to the bay and ocean to make use of the water toys…. I mean vehicles. Speaking of vehicles, I recently learned that the cartoon producers intended Flint's car to be a Jaguar, but I kept it as a Porsche as I originally wrote.

Thanks to everyone who commented and sent PM's. I appreciate the feedback! Thanks to mossley for letting me borrow the Junk Room and to Hagan99 for the fun _Great Expectations_ idea. And thanks to both for your advice on the title. Much obliged!


End file.
